


Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch (You Know That I Love You)

by RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Silly, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, part sickfic part pure domestic-ness, supportive and tender viktuuris are best viktuuris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/RennieOnIceCream
Summary: Viktor catches himself and doesn’t even hide his smile when he asks, “Did you just call me ‘honey’?”By the way Yuuri hurriedly glances to the side, it looks like he hadn’t even realized he’d done it intentionally. It had justslipped out, and that’s what makes the occurrence of it all the more lovely to replay in Viktor’s head again, and then again, and then maybe thrice more.Viktor bats his eyelashes at Yuuri. “Say it again~”Or, moving in together in St. Petersburg takes some adjustment, some stressful and some very, very sweet.





	Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch (You Know That I Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> I should be writing for my two series but. I'm so stuck in Writers Block Lane and life is Difficult so I wrote this because I need fluff, the really domestic stupid silly fluff to cure these ailments. Also to address a couple of my kinks, like Viktor showing vulnerability in front of Yuuri and Yuuri being enthusiastic and whole-hearted about taking care of him. And also!! Yuuri giving Viktor a whole bunch of stupid sappy petnames. I love fics where Viktor gives Yuuri really sweet Russian petnames so I was just like. But what if Yuuri did the same??? Because Yuuri would do the same, he loves Vitya, it's scientifically proven.
> 
> And uh, that’s it that’s the premise for this fic! I hope you enjoy this silly fluff, even a little :’))

It really is a shame that Viktor’s stamina isn’t what it used to be. After being filled with the overwhelming joy of skating with Yuuri that rekindled his love for the sport, he’d boasted about his comeback to the ice with a large smile and a determined fire in his heart. Only a few months in though, his body was already showing signs of being unable to keep up with the burn.

Of course, the past few months had been _hectic_ \-- Viktor announcing his comeback, squeezing into the Russian Nationals, and finishing up the season with Yuuri before he finally retired back to Hasetsu’s peaceful oceans, both he and his fiancé equal measures of glowing happiness and bones tight with exhaustion. They’d packed up Yuuri’s belongings and what Viktor had left behind in the guest room, the stuffing and taping of boxes lasting a few days. In between the bustle, they’d soaked in the healing hot waters of the springs and chatted and celebrated the successful season with Yuuri’s family.

Nearly as soon as they arrive back in St. Petersburg, they’re already choreographing next season’s programs and Viktor is doing his best to help Yuuri adjust to the new environment. Every day, he’s switching between coaching and skating and being a good fiancé, trying to go through these new combination of roles with ease; Yuuri is far from the only one adjusting to their new life.

And Viktor _hates_ to admit that he is really feeling the fatigue straining his muscles and pressing into the sides of his skull. The dull ache of hitting his limit intensifies with every landing crushing his feet and every spin reeling his vision. No matter how he wanted to keep going, to tell himself that this will pass, there’s no ignoring his physical and mental exhaustion for much longer.

After just a handful of hours practicing, Viktor weakly flutters off the edge of the rink for his water bottle. He puts a light-hearted glide to his movements and tries not show how ready he is to drop to his knees, even managing to hum a little upbeat tune as he skates past his rinkmates.

These are not tricks that fool Katsuki Yuuri.

He excuses himself from the technical advice Georgi is giving him and skates after Viktor. Viktor looks up from flicking the ice shavings from his skates’ blades to meet Yuuri’s eyes, large and a beautiful sienna, full of worry.

He leans into Viktor’s space and flutters his gaze down Viktor’s tense form. “Honey,” he says, “you don’t look too good. I’ve been thinking this for a while today, but maybe you should go home and rest. I’ll keep practicing if you want me to, but you’re… What?”

Viktor nearly falls to the floor like a cut-down tree. Might as well yell “Timber!” because goodness knows how Viktor had _needed_ a warning before his fiancé suddenly did something so -- so _cute_. But he catches himself and doesn’t even hide his smile when he asks, “Did you just call me ‘honey’?”

By the way Yuuri hurriedly glances to the side, it looks like he hadn’t even realized he’d done it intentionally. It had just _slipped out,_ and that’s what makes the occurrence of it all the more lovely to replay in Viktor’s head again, and then again, and then maybe thrice more. 

“Don’t make it sound _weird_! After all, we’re--” Yuuri starts twisting the gold band around his ring finger, the muted florescent lights catching onto it in charming winks. It’s a contrast to the warm, pink glow spreading over Yuuri’s cheeks and ears. “Is that-- too weird? Like, too much or something?”

“Too much what? Yuuri, that’s the most domestic thing you’ve done since moving in with me!” Viktor already feels recharged, the tightness in his muscles unwinding and his head growing beautifully, sun-shiny-day-clear. He bats his eyelashes at Yuuri. “Say it again~”

For a moment, the moue on Yuuri’s lips protests the request, but then it melts into a fond smile. It’s a sweet, breathtaking cradle to Yuuri’s blush. He reaches up and pats Viktor’s cheek, humming in thought when his cold hand is too much of a contrast to the feverish heat radiating off of Viktor’s body.

“You’re getting sick,” he says disapprovingly.

“Are _not_ ,” Viktor says, appalled.

“You’re sweating like crazy.”

“I’ve been skating for _hours_ , darling.”

“You’re burning _up_. Go home,” Yuuri says with finality. “I’ll be there in the next hour or so after I take Yurio with me to the pharmacy.”

“ _Yuuuuuri_ ,” Viktor whines, but it’s half-hearted. As much as he hates admitting defeat to his limits, as an athlete he knows when to obey the demands of his body. Overexerting himself will do more harm than good, and he’ll never hear the end of it from Yakov and both Yuris should he so much as sway on the ice. Besides, he wouldn’t be setting a very good example as Yuuri’s coach if he went around being defiant when it came to his health; Yuuri’s stubbornness very well rivals Viktor’s own.

Yuuri pulls his hand away, the coolness he left behind already melting from Viktor’s skin. “Do it for me?” he asks, voice turning from stern to sweet. “Please, honey?”

And well, there was no arguing _that_.

Viktor embraces him close and kisses him on the forehead. “Of course, my dear _zolotse_ ~”

Unsurprisingly, their rinkmates have caught them in the middle of their sweet parting, and Mila coos in a saccharine manner while Yuri shouts in Russian for the two of them to stop being disgusting in public.

Yuuri rolls his lips between his teeth, but doesn’t look sorry at all. Viktor has to admit, he isn’t either.

* * *

Some cups of chamomile tea and a bit of rest, and Viktor thinks he’s all better, but the next day he wakes up sore and heavy and his nose is running. There’s also a clammy sheet of sweat over his body that makes him feel gross but he can’t even summon the energy to crawl to the shower.

Yuuri is already awake and getting dressed for their morning run. It’s the off-season, so most of Yuuri’s more strenuous work-outs take the bench, but their runs are habit, and refreshing. Viktor uses the opportunity to show Yuuri around the community and get him familiar with the neighborhood. But Viktor _aches_ something fierce and he doubts even a peaceful jog with his fiancé and dog in the soft light of dawn is going to fix it.

He groans, and Yuuri turns to him, ready to greet him before his smile wanes some at seeing how worse for wear Viktor is. “Oh no, you’re still not feeling well?” He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out to brush back Viktor’s bangs, grimacing at the sweat over his overheating forehead. “You should stay home. I think this became an all-out fever.”

“From _what_ ? I _never_ get sick!” Viktor whines, trying to sit up and trudge to the closet to change into his work-out clothes. He doesn’t so much as leave the bed though before his vision spots and he thumps back into the sheets.

Yuuri gives him a knowing look. “Stress, I would guess.”

“I’m never stressed, it’s how we complement each other,” Viktor says, attempting dry humor. “I’m right as rain, okay, _angelochek moi_?”

“Viktor…” Having to deal with a sick Viktor is new for both of them, but Yuuri is quickly adapting to it, perhaps faster than Viktor himself. He silences Viktor’s stubbornness and mask of perfect health with tender pets through his hair. “We’ve been moving around a lot, and you’ve been doing a lot more on top of your regular training. It’s only natural that your body is struggling to compensate for all these new mental demands. Remember I got sick a few days after I moved in?”

His brow creases in apology, and Viktor worries that Yuuri will bring up a heavy conversation suggesting that Viktor quits as his coach again -- or worse, that he’ll blame himself and predict going on like this will have negative effects to Viktor’s own competitive skating.

The guilt does flash in Yuuri’s eyes and the corners of his lips, but only for a moment, thankfully. Resolve, trust, and love replace it, and he strokes Viktor’s face. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone, sweet pea. Let me take care of you today, alright? Then we can take it easy before throwing ourselves into training again.”

The sweet words and feeling of care melt on Viktor’s tongue like fluffy cotton candy. He resigns and sinks into his pillows, nodding. “Okay. You’re right.” He huffs out a breath, already lamenting over the day on the ice that they’ll miss.

Yuuri sees it and lightly pinches his cheek, like he’s reprimanding him. “You don’t gotta carry all the weight yourself, you know. I’m here now, and I’m your partner, so…” He offers a smile, small but full of sunbeams. “Rely on me a bit more.”

Viktor hums in agreement, rubbing his running nose into his sleeve. “I know.” And he _does_ . He wishes he were invincible enough to handle everything without even breaking a sweat. He wishes he had Yuuri’s stamina. He wishes he could be seamless, if just to avoid this fluttering mix of shame and confusion and excitement at allowing himself to sink down for once in front of someone -- but not just someone, his _Yuuri_ , who loved and took care of him and didn’t judge him for being a human being with limits. And that’s what Viktor chooses to focus on. It’s _okay_ to let Yuuri take care of him.

Viktor has support now. He’s not alone in this fight anymore.

A soft sensation blooms on his temple -- Yuuri’s lips. Viktor laughs a bit at the ticklish spread of his smile against his skin.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll have a bath and tea ready for you when you wake up.”

“You’re not coming back in with me?”

“I’m going to take Makkachin out real quick. I’ll be right back, okay, honey?”

Viktor whines, but is too tired to protest more. He buries himself in the blankets, already feeling the heavy pull of sleep gently coax him down. In the fluffiness of the pillows, he murmurs groggily, “Like it when you call me cute things.”

“Oh, do you?” Yuuri laughs, the sound a magic medicine just for Viktor’s heart. “Mm, good. I like saying them. I’ll lay down with you in a bit, sweetie pie.”

Viktor hums happily, falling right back to sleep.

* * *

It’s always been Viktor who rained the sweet petnames on Yuuri. Being Russian, there’s countless terms of endearment to praise the object of his affection, and with a lover such as his darling Yuuri, this goes a hundred-fold. Viktor absolutely _adores_ calling Yuuri his sun, his star, his gold and his darling, his adorable piglet and sweet little _shekastik_.

He’s always simply assumed that Yuuri was never much of a fan of bestowing petnames himself, either by personal preference or his reserved Japanese upbringing. But as soon as Viktor expresses his delight at hearing terms of endearment from Yuuri, his fiancé slowly but surely grows bold with verbally expressing how he loves Viktor.

At first, Viktor thinks Yuuri is doing it for the sake of it. They’re in love, they’re in a relationship, they have engagement rings on their fingers -- surely super-cavities-sweet petnames were part and parcel of their status as committed lovers. And that honestly would make Viktor a little sad, since he doesn’t want Yuuri to force himself to act a certain way because he thinks that’s what’s “expected” of them. Their relationship is theirs and theirs alone, and how they choose to express their love is entirely up to them. That’s what makes it special.

But Yuuri’s smiles and the way he joyfully borderline-laughs these words of love erase any of Viktor’s doubt that Yuuri is forcing himself to this.

And then, Viktor thinks, Yuuri said them back then because he’d been sick. Taking care of someone you loved so much, especially for the first time, surely you can’t help but want to spoil them in borderline infantile ways. The cutesy petnames were probably a by-product of Yuuri’s worry and love for the stubborn Viktor who so rarely showed his vulnerabilities.

Except Yuuri keeps going long after Viktor has recovered and is in fact getting increasingly more ridiculous and silly with the names. Several times now he’s called Viktor things like “angel cake,” “sugar pie,” “cinnamon muffin,” and even one day brought home a little box of sweets for them to share, kissing Viktor’s temple when he said, “A cupcake for my cupcake.”

Viktor does not know how and when Yuuri got so sweet and smooth but he’s been peppering him with at least a thousand more kisses every hour because of it.

“You two are so _nauseating_ !” Yuri complains to him in Russian after overhearing one of these tender exchanges. He sticks a finger in his mouth, gagging. “How can you be in this disgusting honeymoon phase when you aren’t even _married_ yet?”

Viktor, of course, disagrees and thinks this is the Best Thing In The Entire World and it makes him explode in waves of love for his fiancé. To counter Yuri’s point more, Viktor certainly hopes this keeps up long after their marriage.

The new season will be beginning soon, and Viktor stays behind at the rink with Yakov so that they can begin coordinating times when Yakov will train Viktor and when Viktor will coach Yuuri. It’ll be difficult to keep a reasonable schedule, especially once the season actually starts and Viktor will be bouncing from country to country, but he’s determined to make this work. He wants to be there for Yuuri, and he wants to grow even stronger to be able to support them both.

Sometimes, the fatigue comes back, but Viktor’s been better about catching himself before he gives himself another stress fever. He still doesn’t like surrendering to his limitations, but it’s easier to let go when he knows Yuuri will be there to catch him and care for him.

Viktor supports Yuuri, and in turn Yuuri supports him. That’s the balance and trust and equality of their relationship. When things get too hard, Viktor just has to rest his head on Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri’s touch and words gradually melt away the tension from his mind. It’s a love that Viktor has never known, but he’s deeply grateful for it.

He comes back home from one such meeting with Yakov, and the lights are already on in the apartment. Yuuri had come back ahead of him once practice had ended, and there’s already dinner being prepared in pots in the kitchen, and a kettle of tea is being kept warm nearby. Viktor takes just a moment to appreciate the life and motion in his once-silent and cold apartment, and sighs in bliss.

Makkachin boofs happily in greeting where he lays on the couch with Yuuri. His fiancé looks up from his laptop as Viktor comes over and embraces him from behind.

Tilting his head up, Yuuri smiles against Viktor’s lips. “ _Okaeri_ , sweetheart,” he says, kissing him. Viktor hums, not letting go until he can give Yuuri at least ten more audible smooches.

“ _Ta--_ ”

Smooch on the lips.

“ _\--dai--_ ”

Smooch at the junction of Yuuri’s jaw and neck. Yuuri giggles.

“ _\--ma_ ~”

“ _Viktor_. Pfft, how did the meeting with Yakov go?”

Viktor continues to half-slump over the couch, arms still locked around his fiancé. “Well enough. Yakov is basically giving me the reins since I’m old enough to train without him constantly watching, really. More-or-less he’ll be my coach in appearance only. Not that I don’t still value his counsel and input in my programs.” Viktor reaches one hand out to pet Makkachin, who’s tail automatically wags into overdrive. “The freedom is definitely nice though.”

“That’s good.” Yuuri’s fingers lightly scratch into Viktor’s hair as if he were petting Makkachin too. “The potatoes need to boil a little longer. Want me to make you some tea meanwhile?”

“I’ve got it.” Viktor gives one more kiss into Yuuri’s feather-soft hair then makes his way into the kitchen, pouring two fresh mugs of tea. A spicy aroma wafts up from the brown-orange concoction that reminds Viktor of autumn -- ah,  masala chai. Viktor doesn’t drink much of it compared to his other favorites but Yuuri is quickly turning him on to the flavor. He pours a bit of milk in both their steaming cups, and adds a spoonful of honey into Yuuri’s.

When he passes the mug to Yuuri, his fiancé takes a sip, humming in delight at the taste. Viktor smiles, happy that he knows such a small detail like how his Yuuri likes to take his tea. Viktor sits down on the other side of his fiancé since Makkachin occupies one side, and takes a hearty drink himself, grateful for the rich warmth falling down his throat and spreading through his insides.

This is all he needs to relax after a long day.

Yuuri places his laptop aside and snuggles against Viktor. “Thank you, sweetie pie.”

Oh god, no scratch that -- _this_ is all Viktor needs to relax after a long day. His heart utterly melts at the sound of the petname and his smile grows behind the rim of his mug.

He circles and arm around Yuuri, thumb stroking his bicep over his light sweater. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask -- what’s been spurring on the names lately? I didn’t think you were the type.”

Yuuri blushes. “Oh. I -- actually didn’t know I was either. They just -- come out, you know?” He glances up at Viktor over the rim of his glasses. “Are you _sure_ they’re not embarrassing to hear? I can stop if I’m being, like, super cheesy or something.”

“Yuuri, you’re engaged to the _man_ of super cheesiness, or don’t you hear what Yurio and Mila shout at us? So no, I don’t want you to stop. I _love_ them!” Viktor insists. “It might be silly to  say, but… They...make me feel really loved. No one’s ever really called me things like that before. And when they come from you, it just -- means a lot to me? I guess I never imagined being in a relationship where I could verbally gush about my love and also receive it. It makes me feel like our hearts are really close together. Not that they’d feel less close if you didn’t say the cutesy stuff.” He squeezes Yuuri closer. “All that matters is you.”

The blush steadily deepens on Yuuri’s cheeks, spreading to his ears. But his eyes -- oh, his beautiful eyes are positively sparkling. They both drink from their mugs as if drinking in and savoring this information as well, before Viktor places them both on the coffee table. The pot of potatoes continues to bubble behind them.

“I didn’t think I’d ever call anyone things like this,” Yuuri finally admits with a small laugh. “They really are kind of embarrassing, but -- I like saying them. I like having someone to say them to and have it feel so _right_.”

Viktor leans his cheek on the top of Yuuri’s head. “Same here, _lyubov moya_.”

“I get most of them from stupid American movies and songs. There’s not really a way to say these things in Japanese.”

“I love them all the same~ Although I do wonder,” Viktor peers at him, “why are they all food-related? Sugar, sweet, cake, pie… Does my little _porosya_ want to eat me up?” He playfully pinches into Yuuri’s side as he says it, delighting in the layer of doughyness he feels there from the off-season.

For a moment, Viktor expects Yuuri will just slap his hand away and try to deflect the light-hearted teasing. But then Yuuri places his hand over Viktor’s on his side, and he tilts his head up, his eyes filling with something overwhelming and molten, and it makes Viktor sit up a bit straighter.

 _Uh-oh_.

“Of course,” Yuuri says, voice rich and low. He kisses Viktor, the tip of his tongue chasing the fading taste of spicy tea. “You know you’re my sweetest treat, _su-gar-pie_.”

Viktor sits, utterly paralyzed even when the heat suddenly racing through his body begs him to follow Yuuri when he gets up and leaves the couch. There’s the sound of the stove being turned off and Viktor is shifting, pressing his thighs together, when Yuuri calls his name.

Yuuri is leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, smile saccharine and sienna eyes shimmering. “Well? Are you gonna let me take care of you, _honey bunch_?”

Viktor stares, mouth open. Yuuri is playing _dirty_ , and Viktor is going to save wondering how he thinks something so cute and domestic is kinky for _later_.

Right now though, he scrambles, sharply bumping his shin into the coffee table and nearly slipping on the floor but in the end he manages to stumble into the bedroom with his darling in his arms, more sweet names pouring heatedly between their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri's inspiration probably came from songs like "Cherry Pie" and "I Can't Help Myself" //laughs
> 
> Feel free to check out my other YOI writings, or check me out on Twitter @RenOnIceCream :D Thank you for reading and hope y'all have a lovely day <3


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